Why
by abirdonalilactree13
Summary: Barnaby and Jones are investigating murders of young girls, who look a little too similar to each other. But then something unexpected happens. Will they know why?
1. chapter 1

Hey, this is my first FanFiction.

Additionally english is not my first language, so please inform me, if there are any mistakes.

I would be glad to improve my writing, if you have any suggestions for me.

It's mostly about crime, but there is also some humour and fluff here and there. Barnaby and Jones have a quite close relationship to each other.

P.S. Enjoy!

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own anything.

Except for the characters, that are not appearing on TV.

 **Chapter 1**

A car was driving through a beautiful british landscape. The meadows were green, as were the trees, there was a small flock of sheep and in the distance was a dog barking.

The weather was surprisingly warm for this time of the year, so most of the wild animals were still awake and searching for food. If you were quiet for long enough, they would come close to you, so you could almost touch them.

Harry was sure, if he just reached out a little, he would be able to feel the soft fur of the rabbit closest to him.

But Harry wasn't lying there in the high grass to play with animals, he had to remind himself. No, he had to hide and watch. 'Hide and watch. And then tell me everything!', he has been told.

So he waited patiently.

The car came closer, making unnatural loud car-sounds and Harry cringed.

All of the little animals close to the road hid immediately.

Harry held his breath until the car was gone. Then he moved his hurting legs and arms slighty. Still feeling miserable, he tried not to think about, that he was told to stay there until dawn.

The fancy black car came to a hold when it reached its destination, which was a small farm.

There were already three police cars, a paramedic and the coroner.

"Over there, Sir.", said Jones, as if it wasn't obvious that there were four bodies in the middle of a small cornfield.

As Barnaby and Jones came closer to the crime scene, the DCI cought sight of the meadow next to the cornfield.

There were six dead cows, which lay in a row, throats slid open, similar to the human corpses.

Ben searched for a handkerchief in his pockets while Barnaby looked down to the three young girls, who seemed to have been all killed the same way and probably at least almost at the same time. They all were at the same age (somewhere around sixteen), had the same hair color and the same horrofied look on their faces, implying that their last minutes on earth must have been full of torture. Foot prints all over the place showed that the girls were dragged there and at least one of them was fought there.

The smell of death lay in the air, more brutal than usual on this warm day.

Ben tried to swallow that grumbling in his stomach, while Barnaby leaned even closer in, to have a better view of the cuts, that were all over the bodies.

"Seems like the killer or killers weren't in a hurry. Time of death is between 5 and 8 am, I would say.", the coroner said.

"What makes you think, there are more than one killer?", Ben asked, going a few feet backwards, because he somehow couldn't take it anymore.

"Maybe because there are four bodies, killed at the same time. There were more than one killer or it was one, that was really, really huge and really, really strong and fast and smart. And I wouldn't want to meet the second option.", the coroner said in a bored tone, as if talking to a child.

"I'll go have a look at those cows over there. ...Jones, maybe you should wait in the car. You don't look very ... healthy.", Barnaby said, his voice sounding bored, as usual.

"I'm fine, Sir."

"No, you are not. It's ok."

Jones nodded. Then fled.

After asking the coroner a few more questions, Barnaby walked slowly towards the dead cows. Flys were buzzing around, just like a small crowd of orange butterflys, giving the scene an even more makabre look.

The cuts and bruises were the same as on the girls. 'It was the same murderer.', Barnaby thought.

As always, he first asked himself, why would anyone do that?

This time it was a little different.

He had seen a lot of brutally murdered humans in his career, but why would anyone do that to harmless animals?

Head shaking, he went back to the car and set in the drivers seat, next to Jones, who had his face buried in his hands and apparently didn't see him coming.

"Are you alright?", Barnaby asked, now being really worried, because he had rarely seen his Sergeant act so strangely before.

"It's ... nothing. I just jammed my hand in the door. It's hurting a little. Everything else is fine."

"You know, you can tell me."

"I know."

Silence.

Then Barnaby nodded and asked: "So what are your thoughts about the case?"

"Maybe it was some kind of ritual. Something satanic.", he answered reluctantly, holding his own hurting hand.

"Maybe. But I'm affraid it might be a serial killer.

We have to search for connections between the girls.

... It could be someone, who is reminded of someone else by their outward appearance.", Barnaby said.

"Yes, maybe."

Ben looked out of the window, while John watched him. Then they sighed simultanously and the inspector started driving.

Normally they would talk about the case while driving and plan their next steps, but this time Jones was quiet and Barnaby watched him getting paler and paler.

"Sir, I don't feel well.", he finally said, as if under great pain.

"You know what? We're not driving to the station, I'm bringing you to the hospital."

At this point, Jones wasn't even able to answer.

After two long hours in the emergency room, the doctors talked to Barnaby before they let him into Jones' room.

"How are you, Ben?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, Sir."

"Are you serious this time?", Barnaby asked.

Ben smiled widely. "Of course I am. I'm feeling no pain no more. ...Psst. They gave me something because I hurt my hand in the car. But it's nothing serious." He chuckled, showing him his bandaged hand.

"I see. They gave you some of the good stuff.", Barnaby answered and allowed himself to smile back mildly.

"Listen,", Jones said with a serious look on his face and grabbed his hand, "someone tried to poison me."

"I know, Ben, the doctors told me. I'll do everything I can, to find whoever did this to you, I promise.", Barnaby said and looked down to Jones' warm hand holding his.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Everything will be fine. They said, you'd be home by tomorrow."

"I know. But what happened showed me, that life is short. And..."

"Yes?"

"There is something I always wanted to ask you, Sir.", he whispered and pulled him closer.

"What is it?"

"Something ridiculously important to me. It will change the way we look at each other.", Ben said, keeping a straight face.

"What is it, Jones?", Barnaby asked, his heart beating fast.

"Why aren't you wearing glasses?", Jones asked, cracking into laughing.

"Excuse me?"

"Smart people wear glasses. You are smart. Why do you not wear glasses?"

"You should sleep. We talk later about that. When you wake up, I'll remind you that you are not allowed to watch YouTube-Videos anymore. You are safe here and there is police-officer in front of your door.", Barnaby muttered slightly annoyed.

And before he had finished talking, Ben was fast asleep.

Now, Barnaby was able to carefully free his hand and leave the hospital, but unable to catch his breath or slow down his heart beating.

Later that day, Barnaby was doing some research about his new case on the internet. But every now and then he caught his thoughts wandering off to a certain Detective- Sergeant.

He sighed.

Then he grabbed his notebook and wrote down a few things.

First about the 10-corpses-(if you also counted the cows)-case:

-who?

-where? -Georges' meadow

-when? -5:00-8:00am

-how?

-why?

He sighed again at the view of Bens desk.

Then he did a list for Jones:

-who?

-where?

-when?

-how?

-why?

...What else?

...maybe it was one of the people they brought behind bars. Or a relative or friend of them.

But it might also be an angry ex-girlfriend, which increased the number of suspects even more.

Then he added more points to the list:

-any recent fights with anyone?

-what did he eat or drink?

-did he meet someone?

Then he stared at the list until he realised, how hungry he had gotten.

At 9:00 o'clock in the evening, he went home, after fighting with himself a little, if he should visit Ben once more. But than he decided against it.

"Ben is fine.", he told himself.

So he went home to share dinner with Sykes. The dog barked happily, when he saw him and followed him around the house.

Sarah was visiting her mother, so John was alone with Sykes and his thoughts. Looking at the clock on the wall, he decided it was already too late to call her.

After washing the dishes, he watched TV before falling asleep on the couch, Sykes resting next to him.


	2. chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Good morning, Sir.", Jones said, obviously in a bad mood. Also he was two hours late for work.

"You actually should stay home.", Barnaby said, without looking up from his paperwork.

"I'm fine. Thank you. It is nice to see you, too. Isn't it a lovely day we have?", the Sergeant answered sarcastically.

Barnaby ignored him.

Then they started talking simultaneously.

"Anything new about the case?", Jones asked.

"Where were you yesterday morning?", Barnaby asked.

Jones looked at him, puzzled. "Why am I a suspect, now?"

"Because you've been seen dating three of the girls." John leaned back and smiled.

Jones still looked confused, but after a while he got the joke.

"Very funny, Sir.", he then said, a bit annoyed.

"I'm talking about your poisoning. We need to find out where, when and from whom you got it."

"Aren't you kind of overreacting?", Jones said under his breath, clearly feeling uncomfortable with the situation.

"No, I'm not."

"You know, it's not the first time someone's trying to kill me. Doesn't the other case have priority?"

"Just answer my questions, Detective Sergeant Jones!"

Jones sighed. "I was at home alone. Jessica broke up with me last week, because I didn't spend enough time with her. But I don't have anyone new."

"So we have our first suspect."

"No. I heard she's back to dating her Ex. They even got engaged. We didn't really fit together anyways."

"I see. ...What did you eat for breakfast?"

"A cup of tee and two chocolate donuts, I bought them the day before yesterday at the Bakery in Causton."

"Donuts for breakfast?", Barnaby asked surprised.

"Yes, Sir. I already talked to the doctors. They think it was in the donuts. But I never let them out of sight, when I took them home. And I ate three of them the other day and there was nothing wrong with me."

"So you think someone was at your home?"

Jones shrugged. "Of course I do. I already packed a few things. Tonight I'm staying at a hotel or something."

Barnaby sighed. "...Would you like to stay at my place? Sarah isn't home and I would like to have an eye on you myself."

The Sergeant stuttered: "I don't think I need protection. It might have been a warning or something. If someone wanted to kill me, I'd sure be already dead."

"That's total nonsense! We better stay together. Don't make me command it."

"Yes, Sir."

Then there was silence, when they stubbornly stared in different directions for a few minutes.

"The girls were identified.", Barnaby finally said without looking up.

"Who are they?", Jones asked, still sounding annoyed.

Barnaby searched for his notebook, where he wrote it down: "Wendy Miller, Yasmin Thompson, Susan Dunkin and Annabell Adams. They were at the same school. The day before yesterday they told their parents they were going to have a sleepover at each others houses. But they never got there. Their parents realised they were missing this morning. They just left, when you came."

"Are they our first suspects? Any alcoholics or any records?"

"Not even one single ticket. But I'm not sure. They all said, that they didn't realise that their daughters were missing, because they worked long hours and came home late. All of them said the almost exact same thing."

"So you think, that they are lying, Sir?"

"Yes, Jones, I do. But we'll have to prove it."

"I know, Sir. That's what we usually do.

Where do we start?"

"I'll go to their school first. Meanwhile you can do some paperwork."

"But, Sir..."

"Half of the female population in here could be a threat to your life.", Barnaby said half jokingly.

"I'm beginning to think that you actually are jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

"Sure. But... Didn't you want to have an eye on me?"

They stared at each other.

"...Fine! Come with me.", Barnaby finally said.

And they went off.

At the school in midsomer, they found out close to nothing.

The girls hadn't been very popular and had always kept to themselves. No one seemed to really know them.

No boyfriends no other close friends.

One of the teachers seemed like she didn't even know, that they were in her class.

Back in the car Jones asked: "What do we want to do next? Ask the parents again?"

"No. They may have lied about where they've been, but I don't think, they killed all of these children. Or the cows."

"What do you think about the cows?"

"I had the coroner have a closer look at them. They weren't under any medications or drugs. So I suppose, there was more than one killer, otherwise I couldn't believe, how one single person would have done it in such a short amount of time."

"What if there was a group of people, like all of the parents and then they had some kind of ritual, like I told you yesterday, and killed them all together?"

"But there were no symbols on the ground or anything else that would have implied, that there has been a ritual."

"Do you have any other theories?"

"Not yet. But let's have some research about rituals and cows mysteriously getting killed."

When they got to Barnabys home in the evening, they both were very exhausted.

Even worse was, that they hadn't found out anything new.

"What would you like for dinner? You have been a good boy today.", Barnaby asked.

"I'm fine with anything you want to eat."

"I was talking to the dog, Jones."

"Sorry."

Barnaby laughed when he saw his colleague slightly blushing.

"I'll make us some Burgers. We deserved that. In the fridge we also have bear. Would you like to drink some with me?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Just wait in the living room and watch some TV. I'll be there in no time.", Barnaby said.

Shortly after that, John sat next to Ben and Sykes on the couch, they ate together and watched some old crime series.

What if the cows were killed for practice?

What if it was the other way around?

They hadn't found any reports about cows that were murdered in a way like that.

"All we can say is that the murderer might be no vegetarian.", Barnaby whispered.

"I think that's exactly what he or she was. He didn't eat these perfectly fine cows after all."

They chuckled before they fell back into silence.

And soon after that they fell asleep. Sykes lying on Barnabys lap and Jones head leaning on his shoulder.


	3. chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

In the morning, they woke up in a very comfortable but also embarrassing position, both their suits crumpled.

Sykes watched them. He sure was already hungry.

"Do you want to shower first?", Jones asked.

"What about ... you go first and meanwhile I get some bread. The one I have is not enough for both of us. I forgot to get some last evening."

"Ok, Sir."

And Barnaby left, remembering that he forgot to call Sarah again.

"You brought me donuts!", Jones cheered.

"Yes, I had the feeling, you liked them."

"Thank you, Sir", he said, already taking a huge bite out of one of them.

"I can't believe you are actually eating those. You almost got killed by one. This was supposed to be some kind of joke and I wanted to feed them to Sykes.", Barnaby reluctantly said, watching his Sergeant eating.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Sir. But those are delicious. You got them from my favourite bakery in Causton, didn't you?"

" ... Maybe."

Then there was an awkward silence, which was finally ended by Barnabys phone ringing.

"Jones, grab the keys! There has been another murder."

The crime scene was deep in the woods. There were two corpses of young brown haired girls with cuts and bruises all over them.

"Perhaps it is some kind of witchhunt, but just for brown haired girls.", Jones said.

But Barnaby didn't answer, because he saw something between the trees.

He carefully stepped closer and finally had view of two dead deers, killed the same way as the girls.

"So it does have something to do with the animals!", Ben said.

Barnaby turned back and looked him in the eyes. "Also we have a serial killer. I guess it is official, now."

They were silent for a minute or two, until the coroner had finished his work for the moment. He said: "Time of death is between 5 and 8 am. No drugs or alcohol. They died of inner bleeding, if I had to guess. I can tell you more later."

Then the coroner watched Jones and Barnaby nodding at each other before he asked: "Are you guys both wearing the same things as yesterday?"

The detectives froze.

"No. No, we're not.", Barnaby just said and walked away.

"You are not the fashion-police!", Jones stuttered, then followed him quickly.

They got into the car and drove off.

"I thought you've brought some things to change.", Barnaby whispered.

"Yes, I did. But I forgot. What about you, Sir?"

"I forgot too of course. What did you think, I would answer?"

"What did YOU think I would answer?"

"I didn't - AHH! WHATCH OUT!", Barnaby screamed.

He grabbed the wheel too, while Jones hit the breaks.

They didn't hit the Truck racing directly at them. But they didn't hit a tree eather.

They came to a hold in a cornfield.

"That was pure, stupid luck. Are you ok Sir?", Jones asked, still holding his breath.

"I'm fine. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm not. But someone is definitely trying to kill me."

"Or us. Did you see his face?"

"He was wearing sunglasses and a big hat. I wouldn't recognize him, if I met him again. I'm not even sure if it really was a man."

"You'll recognise him when he comes back and tries again.", Barnaby said bitterly.

"Don't say that."

"Are you crying?"

"No, I'm not. Lets get out of here and call for help."

After Jones ended his phonecall, they just sat down a few feet away from the car, behind some trees, so you couldn't see them from the street, and waited.

"Lucky us, you always drive much too slow, when you have to concentrate on fighting with me.", Barnaby said after a while and chuckled.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Don't say that. It saved us."

"I'm sorry, that I've brought you into danger." Jones ran his hand through his hair and sighed helplessly.

"It's not your fault, Ben."

"We don't know that yet. Maybe it really was my fault."

"I can't imagine that. Don't worry. We'll find out who it is."

They spent the rest of the day at the station, searching through old cases, making lists of Ben's enemies and talking about what they had to do next, until the coroner called, because the girls were identified.

 _Judy and Jacqueline King._

Talking to the victims' loved ones always and undoubtedly has been the hardest part of the job.

"I'm so sorry to ask you that, Mrs. King, but where were you yesterday between 5 and 8 am?"

"I understand, that you have to do that. I was at work. At this time of the year I'm working long hours.

I'm a piano-teacher.", she whispered between sobs.

"What about the day before that?"

"Why are you asking that? I was working too. Giving private lessons."

"There are four other dead girls. Do you know, if your twins had any contact to Wendy Miller, Yasmin Thompson, Susan Dunkin or Annabell Adams?"

"No, I don't think so. Were they in their class?"

Barnaby sighed. "No, they weren't even at their school."

"May I go home now? I have to tell my mother."

"Of course. We will call you, if we have more questions. Good bye."

"Bye."

After the woman had left the room, Barnaby looked at Jones. "What do you think, Ben?"

"When you asked her for her alibis, she didn't get upset or asked back if we 'accused her of murder', like literally everyone else we ever questioned did."

"It was the same with the other parents. It is suspicious. Isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. But has it something to do with the girls? It could be anything else illegal. Just something you don't say, when you are in a police station."

"They do know each other. At least the parents."

"Six murders in three days... It's disgusting."

"I think we should call it a day. Let's go home and have dinner.", Barnaby said after a few minutes of them just staring at the dokuments on their desks.

"I always imagined you cooking more ... British food.", Jones said, when they sat in front of the TV, eating Spaghetti.

"Do you often imagine me cooking?"

Ben coughed, which made Barnaby laugh.

After getting home they had checked every window and every door twice, if they were closed properly. Now they sat on the couch, their guns on the table in front of them.

"Don't worry. Sykes barks, when there are strangers outside. Or cats. Or cars. And sometimes birds."

"I'm ok. Honestly.", Ben said, still staring at the TV.

This night, Jones couldn't find any sleep. He turned the TV off, after Barnaby had closed his eyes and started to breath slowly and steadily. Jones watched him for a while, but just before he could decide to go to the guest room, Barnaby laid his arms around him and he decided, that he didn't want to be rude and wake the detective chief inspector.

So he just sat there, staring into the darkness, thinking about what the hell went wrong in his life.


	4. chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Jones?! Where are you?" Barnaby found himself scared and confused, when he woke up early in the morning alone on the couch. Also his back was hurting. The second night there just was too much for him.

"Kitchen!"

Barnaby stood up and left the living room.

"How do you like pancakes?", Jones asked, a pan in his hands.

"With butter and canadian syrup."

"It'll be ready in just a minute. ...What are we going to do today?"

"Hopefully solve the case, while not getting killed by any of your enemys.", Barnaby sighed.

Sykes watched him very excitedly and obviously very hungry. The dog wagged it's tail.

"You don't get more than one of those. We don't want you to get fat and sick, good boy."

"But I made them and I'm actually quite hungry, Sir."

"I was talking to the dog, Jones. How could-"

"...I know. ...Here you are. Enjoy!", Jones said, after he handed him a plate full of huge pancakes.

"Well, thank you."

Then they sat in silence, eating and each of them secretely giving little pieces of their food to Sykes under the table.

Barnaby stared at the board in his office, while Jones was gone, getting them some coffee.

There had to be a connection between the murders. But where was it?

What did they miss?

When Jones came back, Barnaby said: "We are not making any progress. Maybe we should try to find the person threatening your life first."

Jones shook his head. "But if we really are dealing with a serial killer, we should expect new murders by today or tomorrow. A free man is walking around killing young girls!"

"But what, if the cases are connected?"

"Should I bring the parents here again?"

"No, I mean maybe the person threatening you is the same person, who killed these girls. And the animals."

"You mean, he's just trying to distract us by trying to kill me, too?"

"It's an option. Isn't it?"

"Yes, I guess."

"Yes, and it would explain the killing of the animals too. ...Some kind of distraction... This is about only one of the girls. But which one is it?"

"Or it's abou a boy, which dated all of them and one of the girlfriends got angry and killed her opponents to have that boy for herself. Something like that."

Barnaby looked through his notes.

"We have to talk to the schoolmates again."

While they drove in the direction of the school, Jones suddenly shook his head in confusion and asked: "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"What if... What if this whole thing is the other way around and it is all about me and the girls are only a distraction?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. Probably the cases aren't connected at all.", Ben replied, head shaking.

"It doesn't make sense, Jones. Why taking so many risks if it is just about you? One every day, would be more than enough."

Jones drove into the parking lot, stopped the car and said: "That doesn't make me feel better."

"What do you want to hear from me?"

They got off the car and began walking.

Jones shrugged. "I just-"

"GET DOWN!", Barnaby suddenly yelled and grabbed him.

Shots were fired.

A bunch of girls, who were standing on the other side of the parking lot screamed. They ran, but two of them fell to the ground, bleeding.

There was a man with sunglasses, a hat and a scarf covering his face, laughing maniacally.

More shots. More screams.

When Jones opened his eyes again, he realized, that Barnaby was lieing on top of him fumbling for his gun. "Where is it?", he heard his muffled voice.

"Ouch. That's not a gun. *Here* is it.", Jones said and Barnaby held him down, protecting him, while he aimed and shot.

More screams. The man with the hat stumbled back, hit in the shoulder. But in this moment, a red truck raced by, wheels shrieking. Barnaby fired again, but missed because of the huge distance.

The man with the hat ran towards the car and Barnaby got up to follow him, but the man got into the truck before he could be reached.

"Come on! We should try to follow him", Jones yelled.

"It's too late. We have to stay here and keep the girls from bleeding to death. You have to help me."

Barnaby knelt down to the girls, which had luck, that they weren't hurt very badly.

Jones quickly made phonecalls calling for an ambulance and some officers to track down the red truck, before he knelt next to the DCI to help stopping the bleedings of the girls.

They were in shock and just cried quietly, when the detectives applied pressure to their wounds.

Jones whispered some comforting words, softly running through the blond hair of the girl lieing in front of him. Than he stopped. She was blond!

"Now we know, that it wasn't the same person.", Jones whispered.

"Yes, it was the same person. Look over there." Barnaby pointed to where, two or three feet away, two shot sparrows were lying on the ground.

Soon after the ambulance had arrived, they got back to the station. The truck has been nowhere to be found.

"Are you sure, you don't want to go home?", Barnaby asked, watching Jones with concern.

"Of course I am. I just want to catch this son of a -." He angrily shook his fist.

"I understand. Now we are searching for two men. They looked quite similar. Maybe they were siblings or relatives. Of course it's hard to tell because of the glasses, the hat and the scarf, but are you sure, that you never seen them before?"

"I've never seen them before in my life."

"Then we should look through the social media again.

...We didn't tell the press, that any animals were involved, so I'm sure, that it was the same killer.

We also know, that it was the same man, that attacked us with his truck the other day.

Maybe one of the girls has seen something.

We need to talk them when they have recovered from the shock. Until then there are police officers present in front of their rooms."

They got home only shortly before midnight. Barnaby made some soup quite quickly and they sat down at the dinner table.

"Did you call Sarah today, Sir? Maybe because of being a teacher over there, she knows something."

"No, I didn't."

"Are you alright, Sir?", Jones asked.

"What kind of detective are you? Just look around! What do you see?", Barnaby suddenly exclaimed in an angry voice.

Startled, Ben looked around. Reluctantly he said: "I see Sykes and that he has scratched on that door a few times. He also chewed on your shoes. For a dog he has a lot of toys lieing around. It's also a bit empty and quite dusty in here. Do you want me to help you to clean up, before Sarah comes home, Sir?"

"Sarah isn't going to come home. Don't you see, that all her things are gone?"

Jones looked around again. It took him a moment to fully undestand.

"I'm sorry ... So sorry.", Ben said and placed his hand on Barnabys shoulder.

Then there was silence again.

Despite their hurting backs they sat on the couch again, after they had cleaned up the kitchen.

The whole night they just talked about nothing.

And everything.


	5. chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

One of the two girls, they saved the day before, fell in a coma. But the other one was awake and would soon recover.

As soon, as they were sure, that the young girl was strong enough again to talk to them, Barnaby and Jones went to the hospital.

Now they stood in front of the blond girl.

She was awfully pale. Nervously she played with the small letter 'A' on her necklace, which stood for Angelika.

"How much do you remember?", Ben asked in a soft voice.

"I remember pain.", she said. The girl coughed several times, then bit her lips. Obviously she lived through the horror of the last day once more.

Barnaby waited a few moments before he asked patiently: "What else do you remember?"

"There was this man. He- he had a scarf. But I don't know him. I was running. And there was a red car."

"Have you ever seen this car before?"

"Harry has a car just like that."

"Who is Harry?"

Suddenly she started crying.

"We are here to help you.", Barnaby said reassuringly.

"We can protect you. You don't need to be affraid.", Jones said.

But those were the last words they heard from her.

Angelika suddenly just stared into blank space and refused to react to any of their further questions.

She bit her lips until they started bleeding.

Back at the station, they went through their notes again until Jones finally said: "Here it is. Annabell Adams. She has an older brother, Harold Adams, 26."

"Ms. Adams was one of those, who got killed first."

"Exactly. But the brother doesn't have a driver's license. Should we talk to him anyways?"

"Of course we should."

About half an hour later, they knocked on the door of the house, where Annabell used to live.

A huge woman, all dressed in black opened the door just a crack.

"We are still investigating the murder of your daughter. I'm sorry, Mrs. Adams, but we have to talk to your son. Is Harry here?"

"He is in the garden. Just behind the house, playing with our dog. What do you want from him?"

"Just some formalities to decrease the list of possible suspects."

"Just like on TV?"

"Yes. Sure."

"Fine." And she closed the door.

Barnaby and Jones found Harry in a huge garden, sitting under a tree feeding a few chickens with breadcrumbs, while a huge brown dog was sleeping in the sun next to him.

"Are you Harry?", Barnaby asked.

"Yes, I am.", the yung man answered without looking at him. His voice sounded like the one of a kid, several years younger then him.

"Do you sometimes drive a red truck?", Barnaby asked.

"I'm not allowed to do no drivin'."

"Is that a 'yes'?"

Now the boy stared at him with chocolate-brown eyes.

"I not gonna say nothin' to you."

"Why do you not want to talk to us?"

"I was told to not gonna say nothin' to you."

"Who told you that?"

"He says I stupid. I not say nothin' 'cause I stupid. He gettin' angry when I ain't doin' ,what he says."

"But you are talking to us now. Aren't you?"

The young man grew pale in realisation.

"Don't tell Moe. Please?"

Then something hit Jones' head and he fell to the floor. Before Barnaby could turn around, he was hit as well.

Darkness.

There still was absolute darkness, when they opened their eyes. They moved their limbs and were relieved, when they realised, that they weren't tied up.

Barnaby could feel Jones breathing and moving next to him.

"Jones? Are you alright?", he whispered.

Something muffled, that sounded like "No", was his answer.

"Jones!?"

Barnabys eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and he got closer to his colleague, who sat up to a wall, face burried in his hands.

"Are you crying?"

No answer.

Barnaby came even closer and awkwardly put his arms around his Sergeant.

"Everything will be fine, Ben.", he reluctantly said.

He could feel Jones slowly nodding.

"I'm not crying. You can put your arms away. My nose is just bleeding. I was hit there -and other places. Do you have a tissue or something?"

"Oh. Of course. Sure. I'm sorry.", Barnaby stuttered.

"We'll have enough time to hug, when this is over.", Ben said and he could hear in his voice, that he was smiling bitterly.

"Did I miss something?", Barnaby asked.

"You were still unconscious, when I woke up first. There were two men. One was this Harry. The other one had a gun wound in the shoulder, where you shot him the other day. I guess he is Moe. They were still in the room with us and just about to leave. So I fought them."

"You fought them?"

"Yes, but I didn't win."

"Obviously."

"Maybe if I just had run, I could have gotten out of here and got help."

"Why didn't you run?"

Jones didn't answer.

"...Where are we?", Barnaby asked and looked around.

He couldn't see far in that darkness. There only seemed to be a window right above their heads, where they sat, but huge pieces of wood were pinned against it from outside.

The floor was also made of wood.

And they couldn't hear any noises from outside. Only their own breathing.

It smelled old and like there hadn't been anyone in a long time.

"In a room somewhere, Sir."

"Thanks for the enlightment. ...Speaking of it, did you find anything to light things up a little?"

"No, Sir."

"Let's have a look, then."

He carefully moved until he touched the second wall. Then the opposite wall.

"I found a door, Jones."

"Maybe if we both kick it at the same time-"

"Or we just open it like normal people.", Barnaby said and the next moment, he stood outside.

Jones followed him.

They stood in the middle of a forest.

Nothing but trees and other forestplants could be seen.

"Why would they leave the door open?"

"Because they thought, we wouldn't make it out alive anyways." Jones shrugged, relieved, to breath in fresh air again.

Night was just about to come.

"Look at that!"

On the outside of the cabins door, they just came out of, hung a note.

 _It was never my intention to kill you, Ben._

 _I want to see you tortured._

 _I want to see you in pain._

 _I want to see you regretting every single one of your choices._

 _-Moe_

"Let's just get out of here.", Ben said angrily. His voice was so loud that it scared a bunch of owls, which now flew away loudly protesting.

"Yes, we should leave, before they come back."

Barnaby took the note and put it into his pocket for evidence before Jones could tear it into pieces in anger. The blood on his shirt started to dry in the cool air of the night.

"I just can't believe, we forgot our guns at the breakfast table."

They started walking in one direction, without knowing where it would lead them. There was a big dog or wolve howling somewhere in the distance. And it scared both of them more than they would ever admit.

But they had luck, that in this night, the moon was shining brightly. Brightly enough for Barnaby to soon spot a small track, which led them towards the nearest village. Actually it was just a group of a few houses. No Pub or anyplace else, from where they could call anyone. At least there was a bus station. From there they took the next bus to Causton, after they had waited for about two hours.


	6. chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Back at the station, but after a long shower and putting on new clothes, as well as getting their guns, Jones sat in front of his computer and had trouble to keep his eyes open.

Barnaby on the other side of the table seemed to have the same problem.

"Did you find something, Sir?", Jones asked.

"If I would have found something, I would have informed you.", Barnaby answered a little too aggressive.

"I'm sorry.", he said after minutes of no one talking, "I might be a bit tired."

Jones laughed. "A bit tired? I'm unable to find a part of my body, that isn't hurting!"

The silence after that wasn't uncomfortable anymore.

"What if they are clones and the government is behind all of this?", Jones asked.

"That's not even funny."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Just before he wanted to give up, Barnaby found something: "We have a Moritz Bernard, 35, who was in prison for three months for drug dealing. He came out five weeks ago.

No job. Lives with his mother. His sister died in a car accident, last month. Perhaps suicide.

Is that the man, who abducted us?"

Jones had a closer look at the photo in the file. "Yes, it is him."

"Let's go visit his mother, then."

Soon they stood in front of a small house, with all windows closed. Like it was sleeping, Ben thought. Then he shook his head, after realising how absurd it sounded.

"I am DCI John Barnaby and this is DS Ben Jones from Causton CID. We are sorry to bother you, Mrs. Bernard, but is your son here? We'd like to talk to him.", Barnaby asked.

"Haven't seen the little brat in a while.", the old woman answered.

Then she looked over to Jones and her eyes got stuck there.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Bernard?"

"Do come inside, please. I have to show you something.", she said in a now friendly voice.

Reluctantly they followed, hands close to their guns.

"This is my daughter's room.", the women finally said, as she opened a door.

The room was plastered with photos and newspaper articles. Dust was dancing in the sunlight, as the women opened one of the windows.

"I never knew I had a fan.", Jones said surprised with a hint of proudness.

"Her name was Mary. Do you remember her? You were her hero because you talked her out of commiting suicide once.", the woman said. She smiled with sad eyes, as she watched Jones looking at the walls.

There were photos of him at crime scenes, at the station and having dinner. Most of them together with Barnaby.

"I remember her. It was a few years ago. We were on a bridge. I was on my way home from a case by foot, because the car had gotten damaged. It was a coincidence when I saw, that she was just about to jump. I talked to her. Than we went for a drink. We just sat there for a while and I never saw her again.

I'm so sorry that I couldn't save her a second time.", Jones said, as he looked at a photo of her with her family on her bedside table.

"It was her decision after all.", Mrs. Bernard said. They could see, that she was bitter. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Suddenly Barnaby grabbed Jones' hand and pulled him out of the room. "Thank you very much for your cooperation, Mrs. Bernard. You have helped us a lot.", he said over his shoulder.

"You know something, don't you, Sir?", Jones asked, as they sat in their car.

"Who does she remind you of?

I just tell you: The victims! The last one who got shot, was a mistake.

Moe went after this girls, because they reminded him of his sister.

Also she was your stalker. So you too reminded him of her.

Then there were the animals. She has stuffed toy animals of a cow and a deer, and outside of her room, there is a painting of birds.

All of the murders are about the sister. It's about Mary. He feels like she betrayed him, by leaving him alone.

Now he takes revenge on her by killing everything that resembles her."

"Wow. ...But where do we find Moritz?"

"We're not finding him. He's already following us.", Barnaby said.

Jones looked into the car's mirror, horrofied. He saw the red truck following them closely.

"But what about the note? That he wants to torture me? Why torture?

And what does Harry have to do with this?"

Then the red truck hit their car from behind.

They almost crashed into a fence, but they kept driving.

After a hundred metres, the car and the truck came to a hold in a muddy area.

The four men got out of their vehicles.

Barnaby and Jones pointed their guns at Moe and Harry. Moe also had a gun and Harry had a huge knive.

No one moved for something, that felt like eternity.

"What have I done to you, Moritz?", Jones finally asked.

"You know exactly, what you did.", Moe said, laughing.

"But I saved your sister, when she wanted to kill herself. I'm so sorry, she tried a second time."

The young man didn't react. All he did was smiling.

Barnaby yelled: "She didn't kill herself, did she? You killed her, right? You killed her because she didn't love you anymore, right? This whole mentally disabled thing is a facade, so we wouldn't suspect you, Harry."

"Uuups, you are wrong again. One more try, Inspector Barnaby.", Moe said.

Jones looked at him. He knew Barnaby ran out of ideas.

"You were jealous.", Ben said.

"Go on."

"You were jealous and you always hated that kind of girls, who laugh about you behind your backs. The animals were there to lead us into a wrong direction. Just like the blond girl."

"Second time wrong. Then I guess it is time to end this here.", Moe said with a disappointed look on his face.

"If you just let us go, you would have the chance to ever see daylight again.", Barnaby said.

"No one will get out of here alive." Moe shrugged, like he didn't even care.

"So you are going to kill us and then yourselves?"

The guns were still pointing in the same directions, but Harry lowered his knive. "I don't wanna be dead, Moe."

"But that was the plan. That's what we agreed on. Now, shut up.", Moe said, without taking his eyes off of Jones.

"No, I don't wanna do that."

"You do, what I say. Don't be stupid!"

"I ain't not gonna shut up. I wanna live! And I ain't never gonna do, what you say again."

He turned around and stabbed Moe in his side.

Moe dropped the gun and stumbled back. "What is wrong with you?" Then he fell to the ground.

"I'm NOT sorry!"

"Harry, drop your knife, please." Barnaby tried hard to make his voice sound friendly and reassuring. "We know, that it's not your fault. We are here to help you. Hand me that knife. Slowly."

Harry looked down to Moe, than he nodded. He gave him his knive.

"What is wrong?", Jones asked, as they were back at the station, doing their paperwork.

"Something is still bothering me. Something is still missing."

"What do you mean?"

"Why did they do that? What was their motive? Did they really do it?"

"Well, they did look pretty guilty to me. Moritz will soon recover from his punctured lung and Harry will be send to a mental hospital. They won't be able to hurt anyone anymore."

"But why are they friends? What connects them? They are not the same age, so ... "

"So you think, it isn't over?"

"No, it's not."

Barnaby arranged his notes differently on his desk, then he took a step back and tilted his head.

"Jones, what do we know about the sister's accident?"

"It was a car accident. She crashed against a tree after driving much too fast. She was on her way home from a party. It was assumed, that she had too much to drink."

"Why 'assumed'?"

"Because the car caught fire and there was not much left of it. Or her.", Jones clarified.

"Do you know, what I think?", Barnaby asked and they looked at each other.

"Yes, I do."

"But where do we find her?"

"I think I know that too, Sir."

They drove through a small village and parked in front of a bridge, as the sun was setting, turning the sky in deep red.

They got out of the car and slowly walked towards a person, wearing a black jacket and cap, which covered most of her face, but not her brown hair. She stood in the middle of the bridge and watched the water steadily floating.


	7. chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Mary?", Jones asked as softly, as he could.

"So you finally remember me?", the girl turned around slowly.

"What have you done, Mary?"

"First you tell me, that there still are things to live for. That I am beautiful and important. But then you never talk to me again.", she said dramatically.

"I never knew, that you wanted to talk to me again so badly."

"But you should have. It was destiny, that we met here this night. Ever since I was waiting for you patiently, to come back. I was watching you. You spend so much time with your boss and solving crime and saving people. Why couldn't you find time to see me again? You said, that I was important and special."

"You are special, just like everyone else."

"I wanted to be more than that. Just like him." She pointed towards Barnaby.

"So you were jealous?"

"I'm not jealous. I'm just ...ugh..., I don't know. I wanted you to remember me. I wanted you to think that I have died and so I faked it. I thought you would feel miserable, but you didn't even remember."

"I understand.", Jones said.

"Then I decided, that I wanted to come back as something, you love more than anything else. A case. So I asked my brother and the guy, I was helping with his homework, if they would do me a favour. And they did. I'm not sure, why they helped me.

Maybe because they liked me.

Maybe because they were bored.

Maybe they have their own silly reasons.

The plan had been to poison you lightly, in case you wouldn't remember that I looked so similar to the girls. But Harry obviously didn't understand his part and screwed up. But you didn't remember me anyways, so it didn't matter.

It just sort of happened. I mean, we planned it and everything, but I never really thought, that we would actually do it. But we did it together. And it was awesome. ...This feeling of power.

We wanted to confuse you. I wanted, that you never forget, what happened here."

"But the girls had a right to live, just as you had. How could you do that?"

"I understood that there are more important things then life and death. Like love and trust. And I trusted you, when you said, that everything would be fine. But it wasn't fine. It'll never be fine again."

"One last thing.", Barnaby softly said, "Do your parents really work until late in the night?"

"No. They are gambling with some friends"

"Really?"

"What does that have to do with anything? It's like the whole neighbourhood is playing now and then. And also people from further away. They are usually down at the pub.

...It's where we went for a drink, after we met for the first time." She looked up to the moon. But she was calm. Like she had excepted everything that had happened and everything, that would happen.

Jones was unable to speak. Deep down he pitied the girl, that stood there, eyes watery, as the sky turned to black.

Then Barnaby caughed and said: "Mary Bernard, I have to arrest you..."

"Excuse me, but stop it, Mr. Barnaby. Ben should have the honour to arrest me. It was all about him. ...All about us."

"I feel so sorry for her. Somehow.", Jones said, as they sat at the dinner table drinking tea, while Sykes sat at their feet, staring at them, like he wanted to tell them, that they had to feed him telepathically.

John nodded. "All of them had their reasons, but all we know for sure, is that they did it together. Almost everyone knows each other, here. It's like a curse."

Then Ben shook his head. "I know, that it wasn't my fault. But I do feel miserable. Maybe I should go home, now."

"You shouldn't be alone with your thoughts. Not now.", Barnaby immediately answered.

"Are you sure, you want me to stay?", Jones asked, "I'm no longer in danger. I don't need protection anymore."

"I never said, you needed protection. I said, that I wanted to have an eye on you. So I just wanted to see-"

"You see me at work."

"Maybe this isn't enough."

 **The End**

 _ **Author's note:** Writing this was more fun then I thought it would be._

 _So if you'd like me to continue writing fanfictions for midsomer murders, just tell me :)_

 _Edit: thank you very much for the comments, they mean a lot to me._


End file.
